


tasks

by ahjusshi



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chaptered, Fanfic, Fanfiction, Fluff, Highschool AU, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Phanfiction, dan is in the theatre club, phanfic, phil draws, phil has anxiety, soft, some actions done may trigger some
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2019-06-15 11:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15412062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahjusshi/pseuds/ahjusshi
Summary: "if you want your sketchbook back, text this number:(xxx) xxx-xxxx."When Phil's sketchbook-filled with drawings of his crush, Daniel Howell-gets stolen, Phil was horrified. Only way to get it back is to make a deal with the thief them-self.





	1. before the incident:

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-written version of Lucky Number Ten. I have changed a lot of things with this story—hopefully for the better—and you will notice it as you read. I am hoping to finish this, like I had planned before, so leaving nice comments will help my motivation! Also, I'm not leaving a 'update schedule' because I think that just stresses me out, so instead I'll update when I deem the next part ready for others to read! Also, I'm putting this out on my wattpad account— username @ ahjusshii — so if you prefer to read them there, it will be available!
> 
> Enjoy!

 

  
  
  
Phil was an introverted boy, meaning he didn't talk much to other students his age, only being able to talk to his friends—friends meaning his only best friend, PJ. Even with PJ, Phil tended to keep most of his thoughts to himself.

Because Phil wasn't that great with socializing, he busied his feelings and opinions on paper.

Phil liked to draw. His specialty was realism—though he wished he could draw comically—and expressed his feelings through his pencil. He would start off with a thought and then the thought would on his sketchbook in minutes—sometimes hours. These past few weeks, all Phil's thoughts were directed towards the theatre kid, Daniel Howell.

Daniel Howell was loud and obnoxious, a popular theatre boy with a killer smile and annoying laughter. He was tall, taller than Phil, and cute and talented, and he talked way too much with those shiny, pink lips of his and he had the most gorgeous brown curls atop his head  _and Phil was in love_.

Phil tried to keep his crush a secret, but PJ later found out when he had caught Phil staring at Dan during lunch break. Dan had been laughing out loud to whatever his friend had said and Phil had been staring at him with hearts in his eyes. Thankfully, PJ didn't tease him about it, but would send playful glances at him whenever Dan was around.

Nowadays, his thoughts had been all about Dan. Dan and his cute, pig-tail curls; Dan and his one-sided dimple; Dan and his big, brown eyes; Dan and Dan and Dan and Dan. Phil started drawing all these features and now he was only ever drawing his crush. After drawing Dan (and only Dan) repetitively, Phil's drawings had improved and now his sketches had started looking more realistic than before.

Finishing up another portrait of Dan, Phil hummed, pleased with his drawing. Phil signed his pen name and the date on the bottom left of his sketchbook and started adding little hearts and stars around the edges with a wide smile on his lips.

"Mr. Lester," his math teacher voiced, shocking Phil away from drawing and towards Mr. Brookes with panic, "if you could please give us the answer for the equation shown on the board?"

 _Fuck_. Phil glanced towards the board, and back towards his desk. Pulling out his math notebook from under his sketchbook, Phil tried to find whatever help he could to solve the damn equation.  _Shit, shit, shit_ , this is what he gets for not paying attention.

"Mr. Lester."

"Um—I—" Phil finally looked back up towards his teacher and sighed, "—I don't know, sir."

Mr. Brookes hummed, not looking very surprised by the answer. "If you could stop doodling away in your notebook and start listening to our lesson, it would be most appreciated."

Phil swallowed, avoiding all the eyes that were now on him. He felt his cheeks redden in embarrassment. God, he hated being the center of attention. "Sorry, sir."

Mr. Brookes nodded. "Wouldn't want to repeat your final year in High School, now do we, Mr. Lester?"

"Y-yes, sir."  _Please get back to teaching, please get backtoteaching, pleasegetba_ —

Mr. Brookes finally turned away and returned to the board, backtracking to whatever he was previously teaching. Phil exhaled, his burning cheeks starting to simmer and wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans.

Right after, the bell rang for the next class and the students around him were quickly packing. With a tired sigh, Phil closed his sketchbook and his notebook.

"Mr. Lester—" Phil looked up, "—come see me before you leave."

Phil bit his lips in worry and quickly tucked away his pencils, hurriedly putting away his other belongings in his backpack. With a quick zip, Phil rushed towards Mr. Brookes' desk.

"Mr. Lester," he started, "I recently checked your grades and noted that you were failing my class, as well as two of your other classes."

Phil gulped, glancing away from his teachers hard gaze. It's not like he hasn't noticed, it's just that he really didn't bother to bring it up when all he really wanted to do was draw.  _Draw Dan_.

"How can I help you bring those grades up?"

Phil just wished he could leave. He looked back at Mr, Brookes and finally spoke, "I—I don't know, sir."

"Well, I—and many other teachers—noticed how you tend to draw in class," Phil's eyes widened in panic as his teacher continued, "and recently, the Theatre Club actually needed a banner and some flyers drawn out to attract more students to come watch their upcoming musical."

Phil noticed some students walk into the classroom, probably for the next class and his thought was confirmed when the first warning bell rang.

"Are you asking me to draw something for them?"

Mr. Brookes shrugged. "I don't tend to give out extra credit at the end of the year, but I can make an exception."

Phil bit his lip. He really needed the extra credit because honestly, he really didn't want to repeat a year in High School, especially when this was his final year. And it was the theatre club, the club his crush was in. Maybe this was his chance of getting noticed.

Phil glanced at the door again when the last warning bell rang, spotting  _the_  Daniel Howell walk into the classroom with his friends behind him. Phil watched him laugh, a dimple appearing on one side, and turn his way, making direct eye contact with Phil.

Phil quickly turned away with a blush and loudly replied, "Yes! I'll do it!"

Mr. Brookes smiled at Phil's response. "Great! Come back after school and we can talk about the details for the extra credit."

Phil nodded and thanked his teacher before rushing out the class with his face burning.

——

Phil glanced at the time on the clock above his teachers head for the nth time that hour. They had a few more minutes left before school was out and Phil just wanted to go home—after, talking to Mr. Brookes, of course.

Sighing, Phil bent down and grabbed his backpack, pulling it onto his lap and searching for his sketchbook. He figured he could doodle some instead of listening to his teacher talk about sentence fragments.

When Phil couldn't locate his black sketchbook, he blinked in confusion. Was it stolen? Phil dismissed the idea, searching his backpack again, but still couldn't find it. Phil felt himself starting to panic and he looked around his desk in search of his precious item, but luck wasn't on his side.

Where the hell was it? He was sure he had it. Did someone steal it while he wasn't looking? He was sure he had stuffed it inside his backpack last class. Did he pack it? What if he forgot it?  _Fuck—shit_ —okay, now he could panic.

Phil heard the bell ring, but he was already packing up his notes and rushing out of the room. What if someone saw his sketchbook? What if someone showed his sketchbook to the whole class—or worse, to Dan! Phil turned the corner and picked up his pace when he saw the sign that read, Mr. Brookes. Dan would think Phil was weird, if he hadn't already and Phil would get teased for the rest of his senior year—which wasn't much, but still!

Phil rushed into the room, noticing that there were still some students there.

"Ah! Mr. Lester—"

Phil ignored his teacher and rushed to the back of the room where his desk was. His heart beat didn't lessen once as he walked towards it, but stopped when he saw something else rather than his precious black item: a post-it note folded in half.

Phil ripped it off the desk and quickly opened it, reading the text and his eyes widened in horror. 

_if you want your sketchbook back, text this number:_   
_(xxx) xxx-xxxx_

 

 

 

 


	2. after the incident:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil finally understood what dealing with the devil really meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops! a new update! a big thank you to all of you guys that are reading--ya'll are the mains
> 
> i had a mental battle with myself whether to call this chapter 'after the incident' or 'dealing with the devil' and i just went with fit tbh lol 
> 
> enjoy!

Phil rushed home after talking to his teacher, though he wasn't really paying attention to their conversation. He only counted down the minutes until he could go home and panic about the unexpected situation.

Phil parked outside his driveway and quickly scurried his way inside and into his room, ignoring his mother's  _welcome back, sweetie_. Setting his backpack on his computer chair, he took out the crumpled post-it note from his back pocket and read it over again and again before crushing it in his hand for the second time.

How did he even forget to pack his sketchbook in his backpack? It was his most precious item.

Phil sighed, falling back onto his bed and covering his eyes with his arms. Why did life hate him so much? Why did this happen to him, out of all people?

His thoughts immediately switched over.

Should he contact the person? What if the person who took his sketchbook threatened him? Phil scoffed, knowing full well he was going to get blackmailed. But for what?

Phil sat up, determination etched on his face. It didn't matter—he was going to get his sketchbook back, no matter what it took.

Pulling out his phone, Phil typed in the string of numbers he's already memorized and immediately sent a message:  _Give me my sketchbook back_. It was short and blunt.

They immediately responded, as if they were waiting for Phil to message them.

?:  **nice introduction**

Phil:  _Just give me back my sketchbook, thief._

?:  **you really thought i was going to give it back so easily?**

Phil didn't get the chance to respond, another message popping up immediately.

?:  **yknow it's kinda creepy**

Phil:  _What?_

?:  **drawing somebody you don't know**

?:  **multiple times**

Phil bit his bottom lip, worry taking over his features. Did the sketchbook thief know Dan? What if they showed Dan his drawings?

Phil:  _And how would you know I don't know who I draw?_

A reply back took awhile.

?:  **because i haven't seen the guy ever hang out with you**

Phil:  _So you know who I am?_

?:  **of course i do**

?:  **who else is an art student called phil?**

 _Well, fuck_. Phil felt embarrassed knowing the thief knew who he was, only now remembering how he had carved out ' _phil_ ' on the front cover of his sketchbook. He felt out in the open all of a sudden, that some stranger knew his deepest secret.

Phil decided to change the subject.  _Would you mind telling me who you are?_

?:  **when i feel like it**

Phil:  _But you know who I am._

?:  **and?**

Phil:  _You know what, it doesn't even matter who you are. Just give me back my sketchbook and I'll let this go. Leave it all in the past._

?:  **nah that's too easy**

?: **i have to get something out of this**

?:  **to keep it fun**

?:  **yknow?**

Phil:  _No, I don't know. I just want my goddamn sketchbook._

?:  **look here philly**

?:  **how about we have a deal?**

Phil:  _Don't call me that._

Phil:  _And depends._

?:  **look**

?:  **you want your sketchbook back?**

Phil read the message over and over. He worried what the thief was planning, but he was determined to get his sketchbook back. He just hoped the thief didn't expose him.

Phil:  _Fine. Deal._

?:  **alrighty then**

?:  **things are gonna get a lot more interesting**

Phil finally understood what dealing with the devil really meant.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're slowly getting into things !!


	3. task one:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sketchbook thief: during lunch  
> sketchbook thief: yell out you like dick  
> sketchbook thief: rlly loud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a warning before reading: this part has some actions that isn't very nice to experience/read (?) and some people might feel like this was unnecessary. just a warning, ok? 
> 
> also, none of this is ever properly edited. only read over by me. im srry.

The deal was simple: Phil was going to be presented six tasks, once every week and when all six tasks are finished, then will Phil have his sketchbook given back. And Phil had agreed because— _psh, how hard could it be, right_?

And,  _wow_ , was he wrong.

Phil sat stunned in his Bio class, staring at the text the sketchbook thief—he decided to call them Kris—had sent him during lesson.

It started off with Kris asking if Phil was ready for task one and so, Phil said sure. It's not like he expected it to be something big, honestly. Maybe the thief would ask him to steal something from another student or disrupt class, which was not that hard—or at least it was manageable, but he did not expect  _this_ :

sketchbook thief:  **during lunch**    
sketchbook thief:  **yell out you like dick**  
sketchbook thief:  **rlly loud**

Phil was baffled, speechless— _shook_. He wasn't expecting something so big—something that included getting attention, speaking out loud; something that included people knowing him, judging him; something not Phil would ever would want others to know and oh my god,  _he can't_.

Phil shuddered a breath. He needed calm down, still his anxiety and think. Would Kris compromise if Phil denied? Was getting his sketchbook back even worth all this? He felt his anxiety running high and Phil counted his breathes.  _Out, in, out, in_...

Okay, okay—he could do this. Just reason with them—they'd understand. Every student has sympathy, right?

With shaky hands, Phil started typing in his response with his fingers, toes, and anxiety crossed, hoping luck was on his side.

Phil:  _I don't think I can do that. I'm introverted and kind of shy, so..._  
Phil:  _Can you make another task or something? Something that doesn't involved public things or speaking?_

Phil held his breathe as he watched the blue bubble pop up.  _Please, please, please_ —

sketchbook thief:  **no**

Okay, okay—he had another plan. Phil took a deep breath, calming his beating heart.

Phil:  _Then I can't do it. I won't do it_.

sketchbook thief:  **then you won't mind if i**  
sketchbook thief:  **idk**  
sketchbook thief:  **showed dan right?**

Phil felt his anxiety creep up again, tears straining his eyesight as he dropped his phone on his desk, the sound silenced by the ringing of the bell for lunch break. He sunk deep into his desk and let out a quiet weep.

He was ruined. He couldn't do this. He had social anxiety and the thought that he would have to yell out something so embarrassing and true terrified him. Phil already felt his hands shaking as he picked his phone and texted back.

Phil:  _You wouldn't._

sketchbook thief:  **i would and i will if you don't do the task :)**

Phil despised them. How could a student be so mean and inconsiderate? Phil blinked his tears away and packed up his supplies, ignoring his teachers worrying gaze as he walked out with shaky legs.

Why couldn't Phil just let the thief show Dan his drawings? They were pretty good and Phil personally thought anyone would love to be drawn by someone. Okay, maybe not secretly. Or repetitively.

Yeah, okay, Phil definitely didn't want Dan to see his art. Or at least not like that.

Finally arriving at the cafeteria, Phil quickly scanned the room and mentally cheered when he noticed there wasn't as many students present than he imagined. It didn't help his sweaty hands and his shaky legs though as he walked over to PJ who smiled at him in greeting.

"Hey Phil," PJ began, watching Phil sit across from him, "you're not getting lunch?"

"Not very hungry," Phil muttered, looking around with worry. How was he supposed to do this?

"Did something happen?" Sophie piped up from beside PJ, "You don't look okay..."

Phil looked over to his friends and forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just not very hungry right now."

"Okay..." PJ replied, worry still showing. "Just know we got your back, okay?"

Phil nodded, showing a thumbs up in hope to let them focus on something else. And he was glad they did as they returned to their previous conversation they were having before Phil had arrived.

While his two friends talked, Phil once again looked around the cafeteria in hope of finding out on how he was suppose to suddenly declare that he was attracted to male genitals. With hands constantly wiping the sweat away from his jean shorts and his legs bouncing up and down every second, Phil was racking his brain of how the fuck the thief came up with such bullshit of a task to ruin his last two months left of his senior year.

Does he just stand up and everybody would look at him? Does he cough to grab the room's attention? Does he do something stupid first? Should he stand on top of the table? Phil just wanted to get this over with while there weren't many students inside the cafeteria. Wait, what if Dan was inside?

Phil looked around the cafeteria for the nth time and let out a breath when he didn't catch sight of the gorgeous and tall beauty.

"Phil, are you okay?"

Phil's attention snapped back to his friends who where giving him worried looks. "What?"

"You keep looking around," Sophie explained, glancing around after, "are you looking for somebody?"

"No, I'm just—" Phil began, but didn't continue when he caught sight of Dan and his friends walking up to the cafeteria door from the outside.  _Shit, shit_ —Phil had to hurry before Dan came inside. "I like boys."

"What?" Sophie asked in confusion, "what does that have to do—"

"I like boys," Phil repeated as he stood up on his feet, trying to balance his shaking legs. Phil glanced towards Dan who was laughing, his friend starting to open the door. Phil sucked in a breath and squeezed his eyes shut and shouted, "I like boys!"

Phil heard the room become quiet. Knowing he probably looks stupid standing on a stool with his eyes closed, he peeked them open to find many, many eyes staring at him.  _Fuck_. He felt his anxiety rise again as he looked back in horror, glancing back towards the door to see his crush staring right back at him.  _Fuck_.

"Phil?" He heard PJ say his name.

Phil felt tears prick his eyes as he hurriedly jumped off the stool and sat looking down at his lap in worry. Dan heard it. Dan probably thinks he's weird. Dan wouldn't ever wanna see him again. Dan probably hates him now if he hadn't before.

"Phil—" PJ started again, but Phil didn't let him finish. He stood to his feet and rushed out the cafeteria, cheeks burning red and tears staining his cheeks.

It's all the thief's fault, Phil cursed. Now Dan would want nothing to do with Phil. Not like he did before though.


	4. afterword of t1:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya'll i dont know the difference between theatre and theater so dont come after me okAYYY 
> 
> also my updates may be late because school started and im getting shit load of work bUT my second semester is much, much easier so YAY
> 
> okay enjoy lol:

Phil washed his face, making sure there weren't any signs of tear stains or snot left behind. Looking up to his reflection in the mirror, he noticed his eyes were still rimmed red and he sighed. He probably had to stay inside the restroom a while longer until the red had gone away. 

His shaking had mostly stopped, but his hands still fidgeted with anything close by and his heart was still in the process of calming down. The memory of his declaration made him want to dig up a hole and bury himself under.

Would people treat him differently now? He doubted it—most people didn't really care in his High School, though he couldn't be fully sure. There would probably be at least one student that would say something.

Phil jumped in surprise when he felt a buzz of his phone in his back pocket. He took it out and read the text message sent from Kris.

sketchbook thief:  **i'm sorry**

Phil scoffed, locking his phone and stuffing it back in his pocket. What was with this student? They were either somewhat nice or a huge asshole.

Phil shook his head, deciding not to think about them and exited the male restroom. He walked his way towards his math class, greeting his teacher upon meeting eyes.

"Mr. Lester." Mr. Brookes nodded, "you're early."

Phil gave a quick nod back, heading to his seat in hope of his teacher to stop trying to make conversation with him.

He didn't.

"How is your extra credit going?"

 _Oh yeah_! Phil had completely forgot about his extra credit. He still hasn't even met up with the theatre club teacher to talk about some ideas he had—not like he had any though. He didn't even know what musical they were going to do for the year.

"I'm planning to meet with the theatre teacher after school," Phil replied, glancing up at his teacher, "to get more information and stuff."

His teacher nodded and finally turned away as more students started filling in the room. Most of them glanced at Phil as they did, probably for his outing and it made Phil blush in embarrassment. 

——

Phil peeked inside the theatre room, looking around for anyone that looks like a teacher. He didn't know how they looked, so he hoped he could find anyone that looks old enough. All he really saw were a bunch of students either practicing lines, talking, or painting props on stage.

"What are you looking for?"

Phil jumped at the voice behind him, a small squeak escaping his lips as he turned around in surprise. His eyes widen when he sees his crush standing there, beauty and all present.

Phil opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out causing his face to redden darker than it probably was.

"Why are you here?"

Phil flinched at the harshness of Dan's voice, his heart feeling like it was smashed into two.

"Oh—um—I'm looking for the—the teacher..."

"Oh," Dan simply replied, smirking at Phil before looking away and pointing behind him, "she's the one in the black vest."

Phil followed Dan's finger and spotted a short woman talking to another student. She looked younger than Phil had imaged.

Phil looked back to Dan who was still smirking at him. "T-thanks."

Dan hummed in response before walking past Phil and heading over to his own friends, leaving a blushing Phil to himself.

Why was he smiling at Phil like that? Phil thought he could die right this very moment from the smirk. Shaking his head and patting his chest to easy his heartbeat, Phil made his way to the theatre teacher and coughed to get her attention.

"Um—Hello, I'm Phil Lester..." Phil began, but the teacher only kept staring at him in confusion, so he elaborated, "Mr.Brookes—"

"Oh! Phil Lester!" she started, shocking Phil from the sudden interruption and loudness of her voice, "I was wondering when you were going to come in!"

Phil looked to the ground, his cheeks reddening, and nodded.

"Well, it's great to see you—Oh, my name is Sue Anne, but you can call me Ms. Anne," she continued, "I'm sure if you're going to design our poster, you would want to know more information about what we're doing, right?"

"Er—Uh, yeah." Phil could feel multiple eyes burning into his back and he wished they could go to another room. Did she have an office room?

"Well, actually," Ms. Anne started, looking away from Phil and around the room, "I was thinking about assigning a buddy for you to explain anything you need or if you have questions because I get so busy on assigning roles and looking over practices."

"Oh—"

"Do you have anyone in the club you would like to work with?" Ms. Anne asks.

Phil swallowed his nerves and looked around the theater with wide eyes. They were all either doing their job or staring right back at him. Eventually Phil made eye contact with Dan who was standing with his arms crossed and looking bored. Phil blushed and turned away.

"Uh—no, b-but I could just work by myself..." Phil replied.

"I can't do that to you!" Ms. Anne exclaimed, "how about this—" she turned away from Phil and faced the students, "—who would like to volunteer to help Phil—Oh! Dan, would you like to?"

Phils eyes widened, his head whipping towards Dan in a flash.  _What the fuck_?

"Sure. Just answer his questions, right?"

 _What the actual fuck_? Phil didn't know what to feel—nauseous, happy, both? Was he alive? Just a few hours ago he was dying of anxiety and embarrassment and now he's dying because of  _Daniel_   _fucking_   _Howell_.

Daniel Howell wanted to help Phil? Out of all people, Dan Howell, crush of Phil Lester, wanted to help out  _Phil?_  Phil couldn't believe it—no, he didn't believe it, but he had to. Because Dan Howell was volunteering himself to help Phil.

"Great! While I help some students with their lines and positions, could you tell Phil what musical we're planning to do and other things he would like to know?"

Dan nodded and Phil freaked out inside. It is confirmed that he was going to die today.


	5. finding fault:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It made Phil’s gut boil in anger at his sketchbook thief. It was all their fault. They were the one who forced Phil to come out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s been awhile.   
> im sorry. 
> 
> but i’ve been so overwhelmed with emotion from dan’s new video that i’ve come back to my dnp phase. i re-read this story and NEEDED a new part. so here it is. 
> 
> to those who know of this fic bc of the older ver (lucky number ten), plz refrain from giving spoilers to new readers! 
> 
> thank you and enjoy.

Phil bite his lip, looking down at his blank notebook in front of him. He was too shy to glance at the boy sitting across from him who was busy tapping away on his phone. He probably hated being in an empty classroom with Phil, regretting his decision to volunteer.

Phil still couldn’t believe Dan would volunteer to even help him, let alone be in an empty room with him after the events of what happened a few hours ago. Maybe he felt bad? Phil shook his head. It was probably to get out of practice anyways.

Peeking a look up at the male, Phil swallowed his nervousness away. He had to say something now. He couldn’t just make Dan suffer in silence.

“U-Um.” Phil spoke, tightening his grasp on his pen as well as catching Daniel’s attention, “So what musical is everyone practicing for this year...” Phil cringed at himself when his voice lowered at each word that came out from his lips. If he hadn’t already embarrassed himself in front of his crush before, he definitely was now.

“Sound of Music.”

It was simple and blunt. Phil admired Dan for not stuttering such as himself nor being so quiet. Sometimes Phil wished he wasn’t such an introvert and wished he was just as confident and loud as his crush. Tucking away his admiration for later, Phil quickly wrote down _Sound of Music_ on his notebook.

“Have you ever watched it?” Dan asked, catching Phil by surprise. He didn’t expect for Dan to even converse with him one bit.

Phil shook his head, eyes wide as he stared at Dan who only raised his eyebrows at him.

“Woah, really?”

Phil nodded this time. He should really vocalize his answers, he thought.

“I thought you would be a movie kid,” Dan said, leaning back against his chair with a tilt of his head. Phil watched as Dan racked his eyes over him, analyzing Phil as if he was trying to read his thoughts.

Phil blushed from the attention and only glanced down at his hand which held his pen. Dan was staring at him too much.

“I recommend watching it if you want to learn more about the musical,” Dan says, looking back at his phone and tapping again, “and because it’s good.”

Phil blinked. Was this Dan’s way of saying he didn’t want Phil to be asking him questions? Phil felt his heart sink low in his chest, almost in disappointment that they weren’t going to hang out together.

Still, Phil swallowed away his sadness and replied, “O-okay.” He didn’t want to bother Dan either. He was probably busy with school work and the musical anyways.

 

—

 

Phil worked at the local library, a few blocks down from his school every Wednesday and on the weekends. He would organize, shelf, and help check out books. It was a simple job that gave him time to think in a quiet space and it also benefited as a perfect place to draw whenever there wasn’t much work to do.

Ever since his sketchbook got stolen, Phil had bought himself a new one (this time remembering not to carve his name on the front). He hadn’t draw Dan at all in his new sketchbook, too afraid it was going to get stolen like his last. Instead, he busied his talents on some ideas for posters and banners for the school musical.

He watched _Sound_ _of_ _Music_ the day after he had gotten home from school, excited to watch a movie recommended by his crush. Though he wasn’t much of a fan of musicals (he didn’t like the fact that they broke out into songs or dance every five minutes), he had to admit it was a pretty good film with a decent soundtrack. He especially like the romance between the two main characters.

“Hey.”

Phil glanced up from his sketchbook, catching a trio of boys a few tables away from him. They were huddled close, a grin on one of the male’s face as the other two looked at their friend. Dan was one of them. Phil wondered if he had came to study as the library was a pretty local spot for studying.

Dan’s friend pointed at him and loudly whispered, “Isn’t that the dude who’s gay?”

Phil’s face reddened, immediately looking back down at his sketchbook. Biting his bottom lip, he tried to concentrate on his sketches, but was hard when all he could hear is his increasing heartbeat and the voices a few feet away from him.

“Isn’t he the one who stood on his chair in the cafeteria and announced he liked boys?”

Phil felt tears prick his eyes, gripping his pencil so his hand wouldn’t shake. God, he was so lame. He felt even more embarrassed that Dan had to hear them, felt more heartbroken and sad. It made Phil’s gut boil in anger at his sketchbook thief. It was all their fault. They were the one who forced Phil to come out.

 _No_.

“You guys are too loud,” a voice hissed. It was Dan.

 _It was mine_.

He was the one who forgot his sketchbook on his desk; he was the one who decided to agree to the stupid tasks; he was the one who decided to out himself in the end; he was the one.

“God,” Phil gritted out between his teeth, feeling a tear ride down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away. Why? Why did he agree? What was so wrong with Dan knowing he drew him? It’s not like he was going to ever get a chance to date Dan if he didn’t know, let alone get to be his friend. “I’m such an _idiot_.”

Phil took a gulp of air, blinking away the rest of his forming tears before they could fall. He hated being so sensitive.

He hated himself.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments give motivation.


End file.
